


Era Vulgaris

by youngwolfbro



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Angst, But mostly angst, Eventual Romance, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-23 21:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20235124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngwolfbro/pseuds/youngwolfbro
Summary: Something strange happens to Don. It is sufficiently strange to have him run from the Anti-Clone Police.Do you really think this is all you can be?Be the one to make the next step in human evolution.Be the one to cause the SINGULARITY™. Donate now!





	Era Vulgaris

**Author's Note:**

> Some couples are just hinted or mentioned. Obviously, the work is inspired from the fictional version of the Paratrooper, I mean no offense to the actual veterans. I was to impatient to make it double check by a beat reader, spare me  
Obviously the name of the drinks were made up and not everything about the setting is explained right away, so expect to be confused when you read about the thirs version of the moon

_Do you really think this is all you can be? _

As any other day, the same words glowed over his head while he walked in the darkness.

_Be the one to make the next step in human evolution._   
_Be the one to cause the SINGULARITY™. Donate now!_

"Why so serious?"

A voice startled him, causing him to gasp a little and his eyed to widen.

"Skip, c'mon, stop acting like this", he sighed in exasperation. It wasn't particulary late but it still wasn't reassuring walking in the streets of Sector Q1 when the sun disappeared behind the tall skycrapers of Sector A. Actually, in their Sector there were some of them; but they were considerably smaller, being outdated by the modern ones. The tall buildings in their neighbourhood were mostly designated to housing services.

"Don't be such a pussy. There's no one here, who could have been?", asked his friend mockingly.

"That's exactly the point, Skip. It could've been anyone."

He passed an hand through his ginger hair, calming himself. "Whatever. Have you done any of our homework?"

"Better", he smiled widely.

"Did you download illegal porn again, Skip?" The friend smiled. "Jesus!", exclaimed Don.

It was a very classical start of the day. Actually, the time was 18.00. But that was the time in which Don went to his lessons, so his day started in that moment. There weren't schools in Sector Q1, and his family couldn't definetly pay for the means of transport that he would have needed to go as far as to sector F (at least). But he, Skip, Penk and some other guys had found this man that gave them some computer lessons as well as basic literature and some other things. The key word was, in fact, things ━ he teached them more or less anything that came up to his mind, hoping that some of that information could somehow help them escape that shithole. It was true that he himself lived in the same sector; but they had nothing to loose, considering the future that they saw ahead of them. Don had recently lost his job as the delivery guy of _CLOVE_, reamaining unemployed: he had a terrible stomacache during one of his deliveries, resulting in an hour and a half of delay. The company had to refund the client so firing Don was an obvious consequence, giving the fact that there were at least a hundred guys ready to take his position and somehow show they were more competent than him. It was one of the few delivery jobs that was still given to humans; _CLOVE_ employes claimed that it was because, being a company that sold uniquely replacement parts for robots ━ mostly robotic genitals, just to be clear as to what kind of robots ━, they wanted to be sure that something 'human' remained in the process. That was, in fact, only the delivery part. The redhead suspected that the real reason was much simpler: the human workforce in Sector Q1 was even cheaper that the robotic one, and _CLOVE_, working in quite a sleazy field, and being probably the sleaziest company in that specific field, didn't care much about giving the best service they could to their clients.

Even a fallible human can bring a gigantic robotic dick to his disgusting destination in Sector Q apparently.

Penkala appeared from one of the alleys connected to the narrow street in which they were walking.

"Do you guys ever talk about anything that isn't stupid?", he asked, as an 'hi'.

"No. And neither do you", answered promptly Muck.

"Skip was telling me how he downloaded again illegal porn. Super interesting", said Don smiling, as if he was talking about a kid that has done something adorably stupid.

Penkala smiled too, but he raised a brow. "If you have to do something illegal why don't you do something more productive than downloading porn? It's fun and all, and it is true that we can't afford it, but c'mon man there must be something more interesting than porn on the web. Like governement secrets n' stuff."

"Nah", Muck shrugged. "They advertise the project to make humanity evolve. Do you really believe they have secrets?"

"That's not the government", was Alex's answer. "It's Singularity. And do you really believe in that stuff? I just think they're a crazy bunch of people with too much scientific stuff in their hands."

"Penk, what do you exactly mean by scientific stuff?", asked Don, emphasizing the last two words ironically.

"You can't really say whether it's possible or not until we achieve it. Or we don't!" Skip had brushed off Don's comment with a chuckle before answering, demonstrating to be kinda interested in the topic.

"Do you really care about this stuff? Even if it was true I wouldn't be thriller to discover what might be the result of a failure in the evolution of humanity."

Malarkey wasn't really much interested in the thing that Singularity promoted. It seemed like that classic kind of thing that rich people cared about only because they had the time to care, since they didn't have to think what to put under their teeth. It didn't seem very realistic or even so necessary. Why would someone want to force the evolution? "Don is kinda right this time. If we don't stop speaking about this before arriving to the old man's house he's gonna beat the fuck out of us. You know what he thinks about those 'rich brats'." So the conversation died there, while their entered one tall, dark building, illuminated faintly by the neons that stood above the doors of clubs and bars.

_______________________________________________________________________

That night Don decided to take a walk. There were some places of the Sector that he liked to visit alone. The zone was effectively like a little city, in which there were all kinds of activities, from the mechanic to little diners and so on. There were a lot of people in a tiny space but even so Don couldn't have known all of them not even in a lifetime. It was like all the world was closed inside a tin; he could move only a bit and just in some specific places he already knew, if he wanted to avoid to get in any kind of trouble. The Iris was one of the places that he liked to visit alone, but also one of the few that gave him the privilege of surprise. It was difficult to meet twice the same person there because it was frequented mostly by rich people from upper Sectors that did not want to be caught by their peers while they gave vent to what they considered their little perversions. It wasn't an élite club and maybe that was the thing that excited them the most. To Don it was just a place were to find some hot guys that were in the mood to act without asking names. Fun. He got into the small door and was immediately engulfed by a purplish light, blinded by the fluo colors that a lot of the men had painted on their bodies; the pounding music immediatly got to him, that started dancing while making his eyes wander across the room in the search of the lover for the night. His glance suddently fell on a particular man. He was laughing by the bar at an awfully high volume and looked very irritating but also extremely alluring. He had charcoal hair that made contrast with luminous green eyes, that were brightly shining under some locks that were rebelling against the hair wax he had used. He looked like he had made an effort to make them look in order, failing miserably; but even so he was surely the most handsome man in the room. The most cocky, irritating, handome man in the room. But his thoughts came suddently to a stop when he heard a familiar voice.

"Don!"

He turned his head to see his best friend looking at him as if he were judging.

"You're here? Again?" Even Penkala came.

He seemed very unconfortable in the middle of the crowd that was stille savagely dancing around them.

"We shounldn't be here Skip", he affirmed, looking around him tentatively.

"You followed me here?", asked Don, fairly indignated.

"We have to talk", said Skip. "You can have better than this. You really can."

Skip had told him an awful lot of times that he couldn't understand why a guy like Don didn't want to go out with a guy and do all the "stupid romantic shit" -- as he liked to call it -- but to him it was a very dumb question. He wasn't searching from some cheap affection in the arms of a stranger, he did not have any daddy issues, he didn't feel alone or empty. He just wanted to feel hands on him, to be touched, to be kissed. And when and if he met someone he wanted to stay with, he would've done "all the romantic shit". He understood the fact that Skip wanted to look out for him. They had been friends for an eternity, they had grown together in the shacks having to take responsability to grant their family a meal, having to accept all kind of jobs, without seeing a tomorrow; just one exception: even if they did not know where or why, they would have been together like they always had been. So, obviously he could grasp the reason why Muck was acting like this. That didn't mean he had to allow it or, even worse, accept it. His life was only his. Skip did not have the right to influence his decisions. The redhead could barely hear what his friend was saying over the music. His severe face seemed so out of place, illuminated with strobe lights and his voice covered by screams, moans, everything. His words seemed muffled.

"You do know that there is someone who loves you and that you never considered right? Someone that always got your back."

Penk seemed like he was seriously asking himself why he had accompanied Muck in that place when he had come to have a "private" talk with Don. Except they were surrounded by almost naked and horny guys and it was almost impossible to hear anything.

"You do know that?", continued Skip.

"Someone that maybe doesn't want you to treat yourself like this. That can barely stand watching it. Because I--", he was interrupted.

"I know Skip!", replied angrily Don.

"I know you love me. You are supposed to be my best friend! But my best friend would understand what I continue to tell him about this if he really listened to me, wouldn't he? Stop treating me like a slut."

He looked like he had to reply, but Don did not give him the time. He moved quickly between the bodies, getting as far as possible from Skip. Accidentally, as far as possible from Skip was also very near to the douchy guy he had seen earlier. In fact, he found himself exactly by his side at the bar. Don was difficult not to see with the red hair, the big eyes and all those freckles on the face. In fact, the man noticed him straight away.

"This must be my lucky day", began talking the stranger.

His voice was deep, hoarse.

"Want anything to drink?"

Don smiled. "Yes, please. I am in vein of a Red Pesadilla."

The brunet's eyes were even more beautiful seen from a very short distance. He looked extremely excited, as if he had won something; his eyes were almost brighter than the lights, and for a moment Don felt almost disoriented, as if the eyes he was watching belonged to a completely different person.

"Very good. A Red Pesadilla for this beauty and a Kraken for me. Hurry up."

His manners brought back Don to reality, demonstrating that he was exactly as cocky as he had imagined.

"Name's Ron". He had smiled widely the whole time Don had seen him. "What about you?"

It was weird to ask names in a place such as the Iris. But he answered anyways. "I'm Don."

Their drinks arrived, and Ron promptly took both of them in his hands. "Well", he stood up. "Why don't we go somewhere quieter, Don?"

Straight to the point. Good. The readhead just smiled and mimicked him, starting to follow when the other started going up the stairs, that led to the others floors of the club, that were composed mostly by private rooms that were at the disposal of the customers. They were the main attraction, so putting a pricetag on them wouldn't have been a good idea, considering that the club was anyways in one of the worst shitholes of the city. They entered in a room that Ron had obviously chosen randomly.

"You sure do look happy to be with me", commented Don ironically, since the other had continued to smile.

"I'm very happy in general."

The room he had chosen had a wide window, from wich it was possible to see Moon3S; Don rarely saw it from the tiny room his family had because the skycrapers covered it. He remained dazzled and found himself staring at it a bit, while Ron was giving him the shoulders. His shadow stained the picture of the sky, but Don couldn't find it more perfect than this, being accostumed to a black concrete sky.

The man chuckled. "What was that old saying? 'The world is my ostrich', right? It really is."

He turned himself. Don thanked God that the person he was talking was so shonkingly his type, because he was also kinda weird. Well, maybe Don just didn't know the feeling of feeling so lucky as Ron seemed to be.

"Why don't you come here and show me just how happy you are?", asked Don, provocative.

He wanted to be touched. Wanted to avoid thinking about the job he had lost, about his friends that acted as if they were his parents, about the inevitable road he had taken the day he was born. Maybe it was true than Don wanted to be distracted. But even so, couls someone blame him?

The brunet started getting nearer and nearer, while Don got confortable on the bed. The amazingly clear eyes of the other continued to shine, his pupils getting larger, while his body got above Don's. The light of the Satellite seemed to be swallowing the room, giving everything a touch of magic. It felt like another universe. Far from the blackness of Sector Q1, somewhere far away, where the only thing he could hear was the call of those eyes that were staring right inside him. He felt Ron's lips brushing softly against his. Then he heard a loud sound, similar to the one he would have associated with an engine getting in function. But it was dry, immediate. Ron fell. He didn't understand right away. He could've never guess what would happen that night. For example, he would have remembered some time later, that the second in which Ron's eyes changed, he didn't understand. He would've thought, reviving that moment, that, for a second, after the inevitable, there is absolutely no way of telling the difference between a corpse and a man who is still breathing. He would have remembered feeling the hot sensation of the dense, dark liquid covering slowly his clothes. He would've remembered how everything seemed suddently red ━ and something actually was crimson red, like his hands, fingers, shirt. He would've remember a shadow that seemed immense and tremendous looming over the broken window. When did the window break? When did that man ━ demon? assassin. ━ arrive in the room? And how? How much time had he hold a dead man in his arms? He was about to scream. But then he saw something that simply made it impossible for him to produce any sound but a weird, terrified screech. The dark silhouette that was still watching the morbid scene was a man floating out of the window on a Dordonne Skybike, wearing pitch black clothes that made him even more visible in contrast with the angelic light produced by MoonS3. He seemed calm but had a severe expression. And clear, sharp eyes, with a glance that cut through the air.

They were green.

They were Ron's.


End file.
